Feint Epilogue
by Confushi Sushi
Summary: After their ordeal, Sam and Olivia have some time to figure things out. Femslash.


A/N: I freely admit that writing action is where my strength lies, and fluffy bits of humor. Shameless sex scenes... not so much. But I do enjoy reading them from time-to-time, and hey, practice makes perfect. I guess that since there is almost something resembling plot in this, it's not so shameless after all. This is an epilogue of sorts to my story "Feint."

Oh, and for the Stargate fans out there, I'm working on a mission story next. It's a stand-alone, not part of this series. Remember the Foothold aliens? Miss them? Want a story where you see them again because there's no way you believe they're not out there somewhere? Then it shall be the story for you. I was surprised when I did a search on fanfiction for "foothold" and not one story seemed to pop up about them, and I watched the episode just the other day and it decided to stick in my head. End of rambling author's note...

**

Olivia drank her share of alcohol when she was out with the guys. They had a toast to her safe return, beer bottles clanking together noisily around their table. She smiled as they laughed, glad to be back in a setting she could relate to. Sitting together in a crowded bar with three of the people she would trust with her life.

The acrid haze of cigarette smoke had never smelled sweeter.

"You missed it, Liv. Elliot was really butting heads against the great military-industrial complex that runs our fair nation," Munch exclaimed over the din of conversation.

Olivia could totally see Elliot with a pair of ram's horns. "Really?"

Fin shook his head. "You didn't miss nothing. Conspiracy Boy here has been talking about it nonstop ever since. Just give it some time and you'll have all the play-by-plays you could ever want."

This banter, everyone ripping on each other and laughing all the while, this is what she knew. They spoke of their attempts to find her, despite the Air Force's edict that they leave it alone. Munch poked at Elliot's bull-headed temper that had settled in over the time she was missing, terrorizing anyone that had the misfortune of getting in his way. Elliot retorted by saying that Munch could easily join those unfortunate souls. Fin eyed them both and asked Olivia why they were the only two normal ones in the squad.

She shook her head, unable to come up with an explanation.

And when the conversation drew back to her kidnapping, she was once again posed with the question of what had happened. Olivia fed them the story she had already given Elliot: that she had been held in some abandoned warehouse with the others. Just like Elliot in the cribs, she could tell they didn't buy it, as she had known all along. With an apologetic smile, she took another swig of her beer.

Thankfully none of them dwelled. It was a night for celebration after all. The conversation quickly turned back to the light, and to old stories they liked to share time and time again.

When their night drew to a close Olivia was pleasantly buzzed and very relaxed. She exited the cab at her building, walking up to her apartment with a glide in her step.

Cragen had offered her time off, and Olivia had shocked him by accepting. Like Elliot, it was usually her way to recover from a tough ordeal, generally in the form of a difficult case, by simply burying herself in more work. But though he had been shocked, he had given her an approving nod.

Sam had also gotten some downtime, and together they had decided she would remain in New York so they could figure out what they did, or didn't, have. In fact, the woman was now collapsed on Olivia's couch. Sam had had to tie up some ends first, so Olivia had told her to let herself in. Looking down on Sam now, she thought that it was a sight she could get used to.

Taking the short walk down the hall to the bedroom, Olivia's head dropped to the pillow and she was immediately asleep.

_Onaman crushed her against the wall. His hand gripped her shoulder with impossible strength. Olivia struggled, but it was futile. His face contorted into a sneer that promised suffering._

_"Please don't." Her body remembered the pain that had come from this before. She desperately didn't want to feel it again._

_His hand raised slowly, the ribbon device twisting in metallic bands down his arm. Olivia's pleas increased as she saw the smooth orange crystal start to glow._

_His voice ground like churning gravel. "You're dead."_

"No!"

Olivia shot up in her bed, gasping for air. She had felt the pain burrow into her skull, but now all she felt was the dull ache of an approaching hangover.

"Olivia?" Sam's concerned voice pierced through the bedroom door. She heard the woman stop at the other side. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine!" Olivia replied quickly. Her voice shook, as did her hands. What the hell was wrong with her? It had just been a dream. It took far more effort than it should have to turn on the lamp on the nightstand.

Sam opened the door, halting in the threshold. "What is it?"

"I'm fine," Olivia insisted again. She tried to even her breathing, to stop this nonsense. She felt the pressure of tears that wanted to fall. "Fuck."

The mattress dipped as Sam sat down beside her. Her hand rubbed up and down the thin material of Olivia's shirt. She suddenly felt underdressed as Sam had fallen asleep fully clothed.

"I'm fine, damn it. It was just a dream, a stupid dream." And she knew that perfectly well, so why was she now crying? Since Sam's shoulder was there, she rested her head against it. Losing the battle and not understanding why.

"It has to come out," Sam said.

The simple words shattered the last of her resistance. Tears flooded down her face, accompanied by choked sobs. Sam's arms wrapped around her, providing comfort. She had made it through the actual ordeal, so why did a dream, nightmare though it was, reduce her to a blubbering mess? Why now and not before?

And now she realized that Sam already understood what was happening. It was coming out. Now that she knew that she was safe, that it was over, her mind was processing. Barring the fact that he had been an alien, Olivia had been tortured. The pain he had caused her was beyond anything she had every experienced.

So was the fear. Even when Gitano had cut her neck with the knife, she had not nearly been as terrified as she had been in Onaman's presence. The act was so quick she hadn't had time for it. But this time she knew it was coming. He had said as much, threatening to kill her right there. And having seen the handiwork he left with the two hookers, Olivia knew he was perfectly capable. She had wondered what it was like to have your brain cooked inside your head, and in those moments she feared she would learn just that. Mere serendipity had been the only thing to save her.

The tears all but stopped. Her head still rested on Sam's shoulder, and she felt as though she didn't even have the strength to lift it.

"I'm sorry I couldn't stop him. I couldn't give him any of the things he wanted." Sam's voice was low.

"I know," Olivia said. She remembered Sam's face perfectly well, full of desperation as the jaffa kept her on the floor and forced her to watch. She also remembered Sam's pleas and shouts.

*

They sat that way for some time. Sam hadn't really been surprised that Olivia released the pent-up emotions in an explosive outburst, but she hadn't been sure when to expect it. Her one shout had had Sam bolting upright instantly, ready for trouble. It was worse when the apartment went back to dead silence immediately after.

From the angle Sam couldn't see into Olivia's face, but she was certain the woman was asleep, or at least very close to it.

"Awake?" she asked softly.

Olivia gave a small moan. "What time is it?"

Sam glanced over at the alarm clock. "Just after four."

Olivia pulled away from Sam, sitting up straight. She drew her hands down her face once, wiping away the exhaustion. Not sure what to do herself, Sam just sat there and watched.

"I promise, I don't usually go around and have breakdowns like this." Olivia's face turned red as she spoke, and she capped the statement off with a self-deprecating laugh.

Sam didn't doubt her. Certainly she wouldn't have lasted in her job all this time if she couldn't handle some pretty intense situations. "It was a crazy week."

"Yeah, it was." Olivia stood, and pulled Sam up with her. Almost before she was aware, and yet with a clarity that comes from impossible slowness, Olivia's lips were upon her own. It was slow like the kisses they had already shared, but not tentative. Deliberate was the word that came to mind.

Sam had begun to melt into it when Olivia pulled back, smiling softly. "Thanks."

"I think I'm the one who should be thanking you," Sam said with a chuckle, earning her a playful shove and an eye roll.

"You know what I meant. I'm glad you were here, even if I do feel like an idiot for it."

Sam knew that feeling all too well. "Don't. You're perfectly entitled. Besides," Sam gave her a wink, "I promise not to tell anyone."

"Good choice."

**

Olivia was pleased when her hangover turned out to not be so bad. A couple pills easily set it to the back of her mind, and she gave it no more of her attention. She spent the rest of the day showing Sam around her city. Something she had taken time to do for herself less and less.

She couldn't remember the last time she went to Central Park _not _to visit a crime scene. It was refreshing to be able to enjoy the scenery for what it was. Olivia also had to admit it was better to have someone to enjoy it with.

Much like they had on the ship, the two talked about all sorts of topics. Olivia learned that Sam had a motorcycle, an old Indian she had painstakingly restored. The woman also claimed to be quite the shark at pool.

Olivia had found the image to be quite amusing. "I didn't take you for a biker chick."

"Hardly." Sam had scoffed. "I like fixing things, as you probably figured out, so putting it together was almost as rewarding as actually riding it. I harbor no desire to get a tattoo on my ass or go around in leather chaps."

The new image in Olivia's head was far more interesting. She leaned back as they walked, observing the jean-clad ass for herself. "I don't know... I think it would work for you."

Sam stopped walking, eyeing Olivia suspiciously. At first she wondered if she had said the wrong thing, but Sam's stare soon turned contemplative. "Really? Maybe I'll have to rethink my stance."

*

It was early evening when they arrived back at Olivia's apartment. The day had been very pleasant, and Sam was hard pressed to remember a time she had been so relaxed around someone outside of the SGC. She was falling, hell, she was already approaching ground at terminal velocity.

Olivia was the perfect cocktail of looks, strength, and intelligence.

A scientist she was not, but her intellect spread more to the sort of street smarts that Colonel O'Neill possessed.

The door had barely shut when Olivia grabbed her, pulling Sam back against the wall. She gasped against Olivia's mouth as lust immediately exploded through her body, leaving streaks of heat in its wake. There was no more tentative or slow, only hunger and recklessness. Sam was so lost in it, in accepting the probing tongue that demanded entry, that she barely registered the door being locked. If she were more in control of her faculties, she'd marvel that Olivia could multitask so well.

Hands started under her shirt, but stopped just past the hem. Sam gasped again as Olivia's mouth turned to her ear, nibbling even as she spoke. "Still afraid of taking advantage of my vulnerable state?"

Sam realized the gesture for what it was; Olivia was giving her one last out if she wanted it.

In response, Sam twisted, pinning Olivia where she had once been. Taking the lead, she smiled against Olivia's lips, letting her hands roam under Olivia's shirt, not stopping as the other woman had. "You're anything but vulnerable."

And Sam was only human, so she thought she did well to hold on until now. Now she was sucked in, hands roaming along Olivia's back with the same fervor as her mouth, grazing over the skin as she sampled the warmth and texture. Olivia's own hands were doing similar wonders to her stomach, slowly working their way up her heated flesh. As they slid higher, Sam grabbed at the wall to keep her balance.

Olivia pulled away from Sam's mouth and uttered one word. "Bed."

The trip through the small apartment was a blur of motion and touches. She tried to get back the upper hand, but Olivia kept brushing her hands aside, smiling against Sam's neck. Realizing she wasn't going to win this time, Sam gave in. Olivia pressed her down onto the bed, pulling Sam's shirt up over her head. While Olivia planted a trail of kisses across her collar bone, Sam busied herself with Olivia's shirt. Hers was a buttoned up blouse, at least, so she could work without interrupting.

Olivia's hands grazed over the material of Sam's bra, and she moaned. Her mouth trailed down to follow her hands, licking the swell of her breast. Sam arched her back for more contact, and Olivia's hands quickly went to work on the clasp of her bra. She closed her eyes against the onslaught of sensation. Fingers and lips played across her chest, overwhelming her. Sam couldn't say what sounds she may or may not have made, and was far beyond caring.

Before she was aware, her pants were slid halfway down her thigh, and Olivia was brushing over her mound. Her lips were once again caught in a heated kiss as Olivia entered her slick folds. Sam's own hands roamed across Olivia's chest, unable to focus on finer movements. Olivia pushed her closer and closer, and Sam spilled over the edge with a shuddering whimper.

Olivia kissed along Sam's jaw while her breathing steadied and her heartbeat calmed. When she had regained her composure, Sam gave a coy smile. She pulled Olivia's shoulder down and used the momentum to roll on top.

Sam's eyes were dark with passion. "My turn."

**

Olivia stood in the small kitchen, sipping at her glass of juice. The night had passed in a series of orgasms. They had both vied for control, and Olivia had to smile at knowledge they were evenly matched. It added another interesting twist to their little dance. And they had both been so worn out that the morning was nearly over before they stirred.

Sam was currently in the bathroom, the spray of the shower echoing through the apartment. Her own hair was still wet from her shower. Olivia's musing was cut short by a knock on the door. With her brow knitted in curiosity, she glanced through the peep hole.

Elliot's face greeted her on the other side. She opened the door. "Elliot, what are you doing here?"

He stepped inside. "I just came over to see how things were going. Maybe see if you wanted to grab some lunch."

His voice trailed off, and he glanced over to the closed bathroom door. Elliot turned back to Olivia, giving her a questioning look. She could see his mind working, and she had no doubt he'd put it together. His eyes closed briefly and Olivia simply stared back at him.

"It's her, isn't it?" Olivia hadn't expected him to sound so incredulous.

"And so what if it is?" she said.

"It's because of them that you were taken... wherever you were."

Olivia shook her head. "Elliot..."

"Ever think she might have some ulterior motive?" Anger grated in his voice.

"I thought John was the one who saw conspiracies in everything."

"After all the bullshit I was buried in trying to figure out what happened to you, I think I'm entitled. You can't trust her."

"Shut up," Olivia demanded. "You have no idea what you're talking about. You weren't there. I am not a fucking imbecile, so just shut up about things you don't know."

"Liv, I don't want her taking advantage of you." His tone softened slightly into concern. Olivia had to mentally laugh at the notion, if anything she was the one taking advantage. Sure she had given Sam an out, but were their places reversed she doubted she'd have had the strength to take it herself.

And she understood that Elliot was protective of her, like the brother she had never really had. Her anger at his audacity evaporated quickly with this knowledge, simmering into simple annoyance. "I'm a big girl, El."

They just stared at each other for a few moments. He was skeptical, and she was just tired of this little spat. It wasn't his place to make such judgments on her life to begin with. In fact, they were both so busy staring, neither had noticed that the shower had stopped running.

"Oh," Sam stopped just outside of the bathroom, clutching at the towel. "Hi."

Elliot's gaze flicked over to Sam. He wasn't afraid to hide his disdain. "Don't mind me, I was just stopping by." He looked back at Olivia. "I'll catch you back at work."

When he had left and the door shut behind him, Sam walked into the kitchen. "What's up with him?"

"El's just being El." Olivia shook her head. But she didn't want to think about that, there'd be plenty of time to deal with him later. Instead she turned and wrapped her arms around Sam's neck, gazing into the vivid blue of her eyes.

"So," she began, "when do I get to see that bike of yours?"


End file.
